


i'm spilling wine in the bathtub

by jessicawhitly



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bathtub Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23137420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawhitly/pseuds/jessicawhitly
Summary: It’s Friday night, and she has a rare Saturday off- the kids are all out, and Hopper was working late, giving her the house to herself. So she brings the entire bottle of red wine with her into the bathroom, and fills the tub with bubbles, and lounges with a racy paperback that she half pays attention to as the temperature cools.
Relationships: Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	i'm spilling wine in the bathtub

**Author's Note:**

> This is truly nothing more than domestic bathtub sex. That's all I have to offer. Title is from Dress by Taylor Swift.

She probably should have gotten out of the tub a while ago.

But it’s Friday night, and she has a rare Saturday off- the kids are all out, and Hopper was working late, giving her the house to herself. So she brings the entire bottle of red wine with her into the bathroom, and fills the tub with bubbles, and lounges with a racy paperback that she half pays attention to as the temperature cools.

The bubbles have dissipated, but thanks to the new water heater they’d had to buy last winter, she’d simply been letting a little water out, and replacing it with hot water. She’s just past tipsy, the warm water slippery with the oil from the bubbles on her skin, she uses her toes to open the drain slightly, letting some of it out. Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she maneuvers the hot water valve with her toes until it starts to heat the water back up.

“All your bubbles are gone, babe,” she nearly jumps out of her skin at the voice in the door; turning, she finds Hopper watching her, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded and a smirk curving his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Hop, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she asks, holding her half-full glass to her chest, the feel of it cool against her overheated skin.

“Nah. Just enjoying the view,” he leers playfully, and Joyce rolls her eyes, though she feels the blush fill her cheeks, traveling down her chest, the water doing nothing to hide it.

“Water’s still warm. Wanna do more than just look?” she asks, the wine loosening her tongue as she arches an eyebrow. With the kids out and the house empty, she figures they might as well seize the opportunity to enjoy the quiet together. Hopper’s eyebrows draw together, inspecting her, before he starts to indo the buttons of his flannel shirt, and Joyce hums as she watches, taking another sip of wine, the red sharp on her tongue as she swallows.

Joyce lets a little water drain as he finishes undressing, and the tub is big enough that Hopper settles across from her, his knees bent and above the waterline. Finishing her wine, Joyce feels few drops slip down her chin, dripping into the water; her now-empty glass dangles from her fingertips, and she watches as Hopper’s eyes linger on the drop that slides down her chest.

Leaning over the lip of the tub, Joyce sets goblet on the ground with a soft _clink_ before she moves closer, settling herself in his lap and looping her arms around Hopper’s neck. His palms grip her hips, thumbs brushing over the bones and sending a shiver down her spine, pulling a hum from her as her eyes sink shut.

Hopper leans forward, pressing his lips to her collarbone, and Joyce’s breath leaves her lips in a soft moan, her fingers tripping over his shoulders and up his neck until they can thread through the hair at the base of his skull. Her own hair had been tied up carelessly before she’d sunken into the bath, and a few strands had fallen from the messy bun, trailing down her back and sticking to her damp skin.

Joyce’s hips start a soft rocking motion against his thigh as Hopper’s mouth moves from her collarbone up to her throat, nipping at her pulse point lightly.

“Have I mentioned how much happier I am now that the beard is back?” Joyce bites back the laugh, grinning as Hopper nuzzles against her jaw, his hands skimming up her back and helping her ride his thigh, the sound lengthening and turning sharp as her clit catches a down stroke.

“Mm, I do like the way you look with a little beard burn,” Hopper murmurs, teeth capturing her earlobe and tugging gently. A soft gasp escapes Joyce’s lips, and one of his palms rounds her torso to cup one of her breasts, thumbing her nipple until it peaked under his attention. Joyce pulls his lips back to hers, moaning into his mouth as she guides his other hand up and around to her free breast to give it the same attention.

Water sloshes against the side of the tub as Joyce slides one hand down his chest to wrap around Hopper’s growing interest, her teeth sinking into his lower lip and drawing a low groan from him.

“We doing this in the tub, or you wanna get out?” Hopper pulls back, brushing the hair beginning to fall into her eyes out of her face, his touch tender as he tucked the strands behind her ear. Joyce leans into his hand, turning her face until she can kiss his palm.

“Here,” is all she says, maneuvering herself up until she can align them and then sinking down, gasping softly as she leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. Hopper’s fingers touch her jaw, drawing their mouths together in a soft, sweet kiss as Joyce adjusted, settling her thighs atop his. Her fingers card through his hair, cupping the back of his head to keep him close as his hands close around the back of her thighs.

“ _Fuck_ , baby, you feel good,” Hopper’s groan against her neck reverberates down her spine, sending off sparks through all her nerve endings, and Joyce starts moving her hips slowly, savoring the feel of him inside her.

“So do you,” Joyce pants, tilting her head back as the moan built in her throat, growing louder as Hopper gripped her thighs and started to thrust harder against her. Water glistened against her skin, sloshing against the side of the bathtub and some of it splattering over the edge and onto the floor. A thumb against her clit sends a spike of heat through her belly, and Joyce’s nails dig into Hopper’s shoulders as she gasps.

“Already?” he asks, a cocky tilt to his voice, and Joyce nips at his lip, squeezing her inner muscles around him.

“I’m horny, fuck you,” she gasps out, whining when he applies pressure directly to her clit, pinching slightly. “It’s Friday, just make me come.”

Hopper snorts out a breath, putting some purpose behind his thrusts and ducking to capture a nipple between his teeth, nipping as he pinching her clit; Joyce shouts as she orgasms, clenching around him, and Hopper groans, barely holding out as she rides him.

“I don’t have another one in me right now,” she tells him, shaking her head. “You can work for it in bed. Water’s getting too cold.”

She shivers for effect, and Hopper snorts, but pulls the drain beneath him and sets to work, lifting her hips and finishing with a groan and a bite mark to her shoulder that she’s sure will be a pretty bruise in the morning. She snuggles into his skin, which is still warm even as the water level drains around them, and Hopper drops a kiss to her damp hair, wrapping his arms around her.

“I told you this tub was a good purchase,” she murmurs, sleep tugging at the corners of her eyes. Hopper chuckles, nudging at her gently.

“C’mon, baby. No sleeping in the tub,” he says, pulling her to a standing position and wrapping her in the towel she’d set off to the side before climbing into the tub earlier. He guides her to their bed, leaving her to dry off while he moves her wine glass and blows out the one candle that had remained alight through their activities before joining her in the bedroom. “Are the kids rejoining us at a decent time tomorrow?”

“Probably not. Will’s doing some big campaign with the boys, and I think Max and El are with Robin,” Joyce answers, brushing out her hair before it could frizz up too badly. She arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Just trying to determine the pajama requirements,” Hopper replied, and Joyce snorted as he tossed his towel over the chair in the corner before climbing into bed naked. He patted the spot next to him expectantly. “C’mon. No kids means no clothes, that’s the rules babe.”

“I don’t remember that part of the wedding vows.”

“Fine print. Musta missed it,” Hopper said as Joyce snuggled in close, pressing a kiss to his breastbone. She rolled her eyes, too content to truly complain.

“Anything else in there I should know about?”

“Nah. Think you knew what you were signing up for when you shacked up with me,” there’s a touch of amusement in Hopper’s voice, and Joyce strokes her fingers over his chest before she settles them over his heart. It’s all the answer he needs, and Hopper flicks the light off before settling beneath the covers with her, nose buried in her hair.


End file.
